If You Like Pina Coladas
by Claire Hall
Summary: [Red Eye] This is set a few months after the plane ride. Cynthia meets a mysterious stranger at a bar and finds out something about Lisa that even she doesn't know. CHAPTER 2 UP! Jackson realizes something...is he allergic to fluff?
1. Cynthia!

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Red Eye, it would've been a LOT longer and…I dunno, there'd be more of it? and I wouldn't have to write this!

The "Cynthia Workout Song" belongs to Cynthia (not this one), and the Rugrats. Whatever happened to the plastic chick anyway?

**Cynthia!**

Or

"**If You Like Pina Coladas…"**

_By Claire Hall_

"Cynthia! She's a really cool dancer—Cynthia! Um…" Cynthia sang happily as she registered last minute reservations on the computer.

"Dum dum dum la la laaa…." Admittedly, she didn't know much of the rest of the song, and garbled nonsense for the next two verses. She picked up her Louis Vuitton bag and got ready to leave—her shift was over and she needed to meet Lisa at the Crossed Stars clubbefore having dinner.

She walked over to her car and proceeded in driving over there, mulling over what'd happened to Lisa on her flight back from her mother's. Lisa had admittedly been both very friendly and sweet to be around Cynthia—but she couldn't help feel she was being a bit protective as well.

When Cynthia had invited her out before her grandmother's funeral, she always used to see her eyes widen before giving her a resounding no. She did come over a few times to watch movies, but mostly she had stayed a loner.

After the…incident, Lisa had also kept advising her to keep sharp objects nearby, along with a nice bat that Lisa had bought especially for her. She kept them at home, mostly because you couldn't easily bring them around in a little Louis Vuitton bag. Though she _was _wearing heels….

Cynthia arrived at the club and found a nervous Lisa Reisert frantically searching for her at the entrance. "Cynthia, what took you so long?" Lisa grabbed her arms, squeezing them hard.

"Lisa, I was doing some last minute reservations—"

"Oh, okay." She sighed. "Do you want to go inside? We have VIP passes."

Cynthia nodded, and they went to the bar next to the dance floor. "Honey, are you sure about that plane flight not affecting—"

"Cynthia, it's been some time since then—"

"Lisa, it's just you're so overly protective and all!"

"That's just because you're a bit of a klutz."

"Oh, thanks."

Lisa stared into her Cosmopolitan tentatively. "But seriously, I've faced worse. And it made me…stronger."

"Than yesterday?" Cynthia giggled as Lisa punched her affectionately, but then put down her Mojito and wrapped her arms around Lisa.

"What about that guy, Lisa? Will you be able to…get over him?" She felt Lisa arch her back like a cat, and she saw the odd remorse on her girlfriend's face.

"I wonder if he had any feelings…" Lisa trailed off, looking lost and confused.

"Lisa?" She had told Cynthia about a few secrets about the guy—he had started to soften, and, oddly, at least before, she had felt an attraction to him and she had felt that he had almost felt the same all the way through.

"Oh, Cynthia, don't worry. Now, c'mon, let's dance, I like this song!" Lisa grabbed Cynthia's arms and pulled her to the dance floor.

After some time, Cynthia went back to the bar to order another drink, leaving Lisa out there still dancing and socializing. That was more Lisa's scene anyway.

So that's why she jumped and emitted a tiny peep of sudden surprise when a handsome man smiled at her and asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Um, no, that's okay, I have one already," she said, as her Pina Colada came. The man had sharp blue eyes and dark hair. He stared at her, and then looked away, embarrassed. Cynthia blushed.

"Oh…there goes my pick-up line! A Pina Colada girl, eh?" They both laughed and Cynthia felt herself go oddly tingly. "So, what's your name?"

"Cynthia." She smiled as he ordered a Margarita for himself.

"Not…_Cynthia?_ At the Lux?_"_ The man raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"Why, have I met you before?" She cocked her head, trying to identify him. His features were sharp and definite, and he looked both beautiful and rakish at the same time.

"No, it's just…I think I knew one of your friends or something." He smiled thinly this time. "She was wonderful, I remember…"

Oh.

"Who was it?" Cynthia ran through her list of friends who might mention her to this tall, dark, and handsome stranger.

"I—she—she might not want you to know about me. She was so nice and sweet and—" He sighed, talking a long drink from his alcoholic beverage. Cynthia's eyes widened, wondering if he was going to take revenge or something on _her_.

"It didn't work out?"

"No. She didn't know that I luhhh…loved her." Cynthia turned and stared at him, surprised. "I couldn't tell her I did—I—she would never—" The man put his head down on the counter, muttering, _"Shit, shit, shit…"_

He turned to the dance floor, suddenly talking in a rush. "She didn't know, but I _saved_ her….I mean. I mean. In the end, I wanted to hurt her, but—it was my job then! And. And…"

He whispered to himself, so softly that Cynthia couldn't hear: "I _need_ her again…."

Cynthia swallowed nervously. "What?"

"_Cynthia!_" He said teasingly in her ear. She fidgeted. "She called _you_, remember? That's how I know your name." He paused. "I have a different job now," he said in a softer tone. "Maybe not the best side, but now I don't have to answer to those idiots with their stupid rocket bazookas." He smiled at her, as if this were all a romedy and it was all very light-hearted and any moment Will Smith and Eva Mendes would pop up.

"I _do_ have feelings for her."

"For _who?_" Cynthia said this though she knew what was coming anyway.

"Lisa." he said reverently. He put down his Margarita, now all gone, and got up to leave. Cynthia's breath caught.

"By the way, it's Jackson. Goodbye. Oh, and thank you." Jackson grinned eerily and left. Cynthia frowned, confused. _Thank me for what?_

Lisa walked in on that moment. Cynthia stared at her. "Lisa—" She stopped. Should she tell her? It was all so confusing. She had realized later who he'd been—and—he _loved_ her?

"Cynthia, what's wrong?" Lisa looked innocent to the conversation Cynthia had just had and she raised her eyebrows. "Did a guy finally talk to you? Pick-up line and all?" She laughed.

"Um…yeah. Hey, Lisa, let's go to my house and have pizza, okay? And do you want to stay over? Why don't you stay over?"

"Okay, sure. It is getting kind of late anyway."

As they were about to leave, the bartender called Cynthia over, handing her a check.

"I didn't order a Margarita!"

"That guy said you were old friends—you were talking for a long time and all, so I assumed…."

Cynthia's eyes widened, remembering Jackson's last minute thanks.

"That _bastard!_"

Author's Note: So did you guys like it? It was a bit darker than I thought, but for the most part I hope I conveyed the feelings I wanted from both Cynthia and Jackson.

I heart Cynthia, haha…that last remark from Lisa standing up for her made me giggle a lot. ;D

Review please! This might become more than a one shot if I feel like going one but…eh. No flames please.


	2. I Know Something You Don't Know

**Disclaimer: **sigh I don't own Elmo.

**Chapter 2: **

**I know something you don't know**

"Cynthia!"

Cynthia's eyes popped open. "Five more minutes…." She murmured, stuffing her face into her pillow. It hit her that this would not bode well with whoever had said her name.

"Cynthia…" sang the voice. Cynthia growled and got up.

"WHAT!" She screamed. The cold voice answered her, sounding angered and crazy.

"Cynthia!" The words echoed from the front of the apartment. "We need to talk."

_He was in her house. Why was he in her house? Lisa had gone home yesterday…_

Lisa—she needed to call Lisa. She should've done that before, when she saw him at the bar. She looked around for her cell phone—dammit, it was in the kitchen—and then she saw the bat.

She remembered going with Lisa to all those different things that she'd wanted to do after the Red Eye flight. Yoga, Tai Chi, Israeli self defense, everything. She picked the bat up tentatively. She could do this. She could.

Should she bash his head in? No, that was too messy. Not to mention hard to get out of the carpet—in more ways than one. Cynthia swallowed. Lisa knew him, knew how he worked, and knew how to fight this jerk. She got scared just watching Disney movies. But they _were_ scary, because at least one person would die in all of the animations…

Arggh. Babysitting was getting to her.

"What the hell do you want?" Her voice sounded silly shouting, like she was playing a part in Scary Movie 4.

"I need your help." He jiggled the doorknob. "Let me in."

"Hah! Don't be stupid."

There was a soft chuckle. "I won't hurt _you_, Cynthia."

"But you'll hurt Lisa, won't you? You liar, you don't love her at all—"

Jackson growled. "How _dare_ you—"

"Lovers don't try and KILL EACH OTHER!" Cynthia growled back.

There was a pregnant pause from behind the door. Then—

"I did love her! I watched her, I _knew_ her! She was mine, but it was my job to—"

"Not to kill her!"

"She beat me! A little girl, a HOTEL MANAGER! Or," Jackson hissed, "Is that _your_ job now? You're just a little dumb blonde, Cynthia—you couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"Oh yeah!" Cynthia shouted. She felt his presence close to the door, breathing out anger and ranting for all he was worth. He was _psychotic_. She steeled herself, gripping the bat hard, thinking.

"Yeah, Cynthia." He laughed cuttingly. "Too bad _your_ grandmother hadn't died down in Dallas."

Cynthia's breathing sharpened, getting louder. "Shut up."

"Oh, Cynthia," Jackson sighed. "You're more naïve than I thought."

_BANG! _

Cynthia jumped as the door flew open. He'd been picking the lock the whole time. She swung the bat with all her strength, hitting his side, hearing things snap, crackle, pop sickeningly.

Jackson grabbed the bat, snarling. "Oh no you don't." He moved to grab her hand too, but Cynthia had let go of the weapon and was already running, trying to get for the phone. She scrambled her way down the stairs to the kitchen, looking for her cell phone.

Jackson sighed dramatically. Going through the best friend to get the girl was too much of a hassle, no matter what the movies said.

"I like your pajamas, Cynth! Real classy!"

Cynthia looked down at her Elmo T-shirt and shorts. _Oh, yeah, duh. The crazed killer obsessed with my best friend sees me in my pajamas. Welcome to my life_, thought Cynthia, exasperatedly.

"What do you _want _from me?" He was advancing, scowling and roaring like a lion.

"You didn't tell Lisa! Why didn't you tell her!"

"I didn't want her hurt!" Cynthia shouted, reaching into the fridge, grabbing the first thing she found.

A pineapple.

She grinned as a song ran through her head. _Perfect_. She spun around to look at Jackson coming down the stairs, and flung it at him with all her force.

"What the fuh—" Jackson's confused look fell as the pineapple smacked him upside the forehead, leaving bloody scratches. He winced and growled, running forward, only to have an eggplant flung at his face. This time he tried to catch it—which was a bad idea, which he found out only when it exploded all over him.

"Auuughh!" he shouted angrily.

"Ew." Cynthia said, disgusted, as she reached for the cell phone on the couch in front of her television. She was almost there when Jackson grabbed her from behind. His arms grabbed hers and brought them behind her, after which he put his other arm round her neck, poised to choke her.

Cynthia's chest filled with dread. She took a few shuddering breaths, then asked. "Why don't you just leave Lisa alone? Why do you need to hurt her? Why—"

"She screwed me over, Cynthia—I told you at the bar." Cynthia tried to turn to look at him, but he tightened his grip on her neck. She faced forward again. She had had a glimpse of his face—it had looked like he was struggling with something he had no idea about.

She pressed her lips together, choosing her words carefully. "You're obsessed. Not about the job. About her beating you. Because she's—" Cynthia was about to say "female", but then paused. "Because she's Lisa."

Jackson felt a cold front come on to his chest. That was it. She was right. Lisa had messed him up. Oh, he had worked with women before—but Lisa was both vulnerable and brave and she'd beaten him. She was easy to mess with and hard to figure out at the same time. She was…Lisa.

(Jackson sneezed, not knowing he was actually having an allergic reaction to all the fluff.)

Cynthia raised her eyebrows, realizing he himself hadn't known that. "There's much more to her than just being a hotel manager," Cynthia said. "But you know that, I suppose." She glanced at his neck, seeing a bandage.

_Could he really love her? _

Thoughts ran through her head as she concentrated on carefully trying to release herself from Jackson's slackened grip. She whipped around and pushed him against the wall, but then Jackson grabbed her throat and squeezed it vehemently.

Jackson scowled. "Why didn't you tell her?" He squeezed tighter, then let go abruptly, and Cynthia coughed and spluttered for air as he twisted her hands to her back once again.

"This is getting repetiti—"

"Why not!" He shouted, tightening his grip and Cynthia swallowed deciding to keep such things to herself.

"She's my friend, _Rippner_. I want her to be happy. I don't want her to end up falling for that stranger in the bar who tried to ruin her life, kill her father and her, and destroy her whole life in general."

"Tell her," Jackson said, turning the girl and pulling her chin up to his, staring into Cynthia's eyes, trying to send his meaning. "You have to tell her. Tell her I was here, that I know where you are, and I know that you two are _great_ friends."

Cynthia swallowed. "Do you really love her, Jackson? If you do, then you'll leave her alone—"

"Maybe I don't, Cynthia, and Maybe I do. It all depends. But I won't leave her—she has the answer, doesn't she?" Jackson then pressed an exact pressure point on Cynthia's neck, rendering her unconscious. Her body became limp, and he dropped her a bit unceremoniously on the couch.

After all, it was for Lisa he was here, not her.

**Author's Note: **Well, I tried really hard with this chapter, trying to get Jackson better, along with his passion for Lisa. When I update this story next time, it won't be for sometime, since school's starting Thursday. strangled noise

Thank you to all my reviewers! You guys inspired me to write a second chapter!

You make me happy as a duck:D

**kazakichik** Yeah, I know—I hardly ever do that much angst (that's why this sucks, haha), so I don't have the patience to get them to "come together". All the stories just take so long!

**thesupernugget** I tried for angst here, and I hope it works. I had no idea my story was fluffy. I have never written fluff (intentionally) before. What a shock!

**The Mercer Sister** Yum. Overly obsessed Jackson. Wes should take a hint from all this fanfiction.

**blueyedtears** Yes, everyone LOVES Cynthia! "Shake it, shake it, you're so fantastic—" By the way, I LOVE your story! Especially the most recent chapter; it partially inspired this one!

**The Nth Degree:** LOL. I know what you mean. I never noticed that though, you're right! Except without the love at first sight. beat Wait, actually…

**No One Mourns the Wicked:** AHHH, IT'S ASHLEY! Do you know you're like a God among the Red Eye writers? We might even start a club—"_We_ Mourn the Wicked"! Thanks for liking my story—I hope this one is as good as before and reaches the fluff mark, especially since it's intentional now.

Also, thank you to Chanal86, my first reviewer, and CLIU!


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